Man's Best Friend
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: AU EoB Post-Ep. In which Royal helps initiate a little Caskett couch cuddling. Furry, fluffy, cuteness. For Lou. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**AU ****_Embarrassment of Bitches_**** Post-Ep. **

**G-rated fluffy fun (I'm shocked too)  
**

* * *

"You know, in your heart, man's best friend. _Man's_." With one last glance to Kate, Royal turned and trotted off to Castle's outstretched hand.

And that was how Castle got a co-conspirator...

Dog.

How Castle got a _dog_.

* * *

The restaurant has only just answered the phone when there's a knock at his door, and either that's the fastest delivery ever or...

He opens the door and grins. "Business or pleasure?" He whispers to her, phone still to his ear.

Beckett rolls her eyes at the pleasure and replies quietly, "Royal."

_Ah._ "One moment," he tells the restaurant. "You eaten?" He asks Beckett, ushering her into the loft.

She shakes her head.

"Make that for two," he speaks into the phone. Beckett throws him a look, narrowed eyes, and a shake of her head, but he ignores it. Ending the call, Castle smiles warmly at her. "Food's on its way."

"I didn't come over for that, Castle. I just missed Royal."

_Mmmhmmm._ "Well now you're staying for dinner," he replies simply.

Beckett slips her coat off, and glances around. "Alexis not home yet?"

Castle hangs her coat on the hook and shakes his head. "They added an extra college to the itinerary late, so she'll be back tomorrow afternoon."

Beckett nods. She spies Royal sprawled on the floor beside the couch, gnawing on Mr Squeaky, and makes her way over to him. She crouches down in front of the dog, and scratches behind his ear.

Castle watches quietly from the kitchen, busying himself with wine glasses. He joins her, passing her a glass of Merlot before she can refuse. Giving Royal one last scratch, Kate joins him on the couch, a respectable distance between them. "Still thinking about getting a dog?"

She takes a moment to sip the wine, savoring the flavors, the hint of plum, before shrugging. "Maybe in the future," she replies sadly. "If my situation changes. But for now? No. He's be too lonely." She smiles at Royal as she sips her wine. "He's lucky, he has you, and Martha and Alexis."

She turns back to him when she thinks she has the sadness under control. But he sees the hint of it lingering in her eyes. "He has you too," Castle points out. "You're welcome to stop by anytime."

Kate's smile reaches her eyes."Thanks, Castle. That's sweet." The eye-contact lingers, just a few extra seconds, until Kate turns away, clears her throat. "So what's for dinner?"

"Italian," he announces.

"Pasta?"

"Nothing but carbs."

"Sounds good," Kate replies, nodding in approval.

Royal stands, Mr Squeaky forgotten on the floor, and makes his way to Kate, pressing his solid side against her legs.

"I think he likes you," Castle observes.

"It's mutual," she replies, running a hand over his head, down his back, repeating the motion.

There's a lilt in her tone, something that makes Castle hesitate before swallowing his wine. Something that suggests she isn't just talking about the dog. Something that suggests she's aware he wasn't either.

The knock at the door pulls him off the couch. Castle tips the delivery boy, collects forks from the kitchen, and brings the steaming containers into the living room. He passes one to Kate as he sits, and she accepts it happily.

"Smells amazing," she declares. "What restaurant is this?"

"Oh, just a small Italian place," he replies. "That doesn't usually deliver," he adds quickly.

Kate chuckles around her fork. She swallows the mouthful of pasta, the flavors of the sauce still buzzing inside her mouth, exciting her taste-buds. "Oh, God. Castle. I think this is the best carbonara I've ever had."

"Then you've clearly never tasted mine." He throws a leer into his tone, he can't help himself. Her eyes had fluttered shut as she swallowed, she has a look of utter bliss on her face, and there was something in his words that added to the sexual undertones hanging over them in that moment. So the suggestive edge to his tone as he spoke the last word just sort of... _happened_.

Royal sniffs at the container in Kate's hand, and she uses her free hand to rub behind his ears, gently shoving his head away from the food. "I don't think so, Royal," she tells the dog softly.

Royal takes the hint and flops down at Kate's feet, his nose positioned just right, should any food accidentally fall.

They eat in a comfortable silence, occasionally breaking it to comment on the case, the new addition to Castle's family, her plans for the evening.

Finishing off the last bite, Kate follows it with the last of her wine. "No plans," she replies easily. "After stopping by to see Royal I was going to curl up with a book."

"In the bath?" Because he can't help himself.

"In bed," she replies smoothly.

And that image doesn't make it any better. Either way, in his head, she's naked. _Because he's a pervert_. He sighs at himself, and reaches for her glass. "Refill?"

"Sure."

She hands him her empty glass, and collects the empty dinner containers, helping him tidy up. She moves easily around his kitchen, disposing of the containers, rinsing the forks and placing them in the dishwasher, and it all feels so _normal_ and _right _that it makes his heart clench just a little in his chest. He shakes the images of a relationship, of this woman with a ring on her finger. He shakes it off, because how can he see that far when he can't even repeat three words to her, when she's in his presence, and _conscious_.

"You okay, Castle?"

She's frowning at the expression on his face, which he suspects is caught somewhere between hope and despair.

"Fine," he lies. "Sorry." He holds her now full glass to her. "Your wine."

The small furrow in her brow remains, but she accepts the glass, nodding. "Thank you."

He leads her back to the couch, wiping the last of his inner turmoil off his features. Royal waits patiently, his tail thumping against the floor as they approach.

Kate settles back on the couch, still well on her side, when Royal jumps up in one fluid movement and crams his bulk between her and the arm rest, resulting in her body being shoved a little closer to Castle's. "You been teaching him that move?" She asks Castle, her side almost touching his, her eyebrows raised.

"That move was all his," Castle promises. "Told you he likes you."

Royal shifts, edging Kate even closer to Castle until her arm is pressed to his, the dog making himself comfortable with his head on Kate's thighs. She runs a hand along his soft coat, the other firmly wrapped around her wine glass, keeping it stable throughout all the jostling.

Castle reaches for the remote. "I know you had planned an evening of reading, but can I suggest a movie?" He already has the TV turned on, flipping through the channels.

Kate sighs against him. But it isn't quite the resigned sigh he had been expecting. She's too relaxed now, completely comfortable against him.

"Why not." She might be trying to sound nonchalant, but she doesn't look willing to move anytime soon. And that knowledge makes him just a little too happy.

He stops on some random fifties sci-fi film that seems to hold Kate's attention. He feels the pressure against his arm increase, her thigh now brushing his, as she settles just a little more. The less liquid that remains in her glass, the more pliant she becomes. When she shifts to place her empty glass on the coffee table, he feels colder immediately, missing her warmth against him. When she sits back again, returning to her previous position, he takes a chance and slips an arm across the back of the couch, his fingertips dancing along the thin cotton covering her shoulder.

"Don't push your luck," Kate mutters, but her tone is too relaxed, there's no fight in it.

"Sssshhh, I'm trying to watch the movie."

She throws a glare his way, before shaking her head and chuckling at him.

They're quiet as the film continues, hunger sated, alcohol buzzing through their veins, making them both drop their guards just a little more than they would normally allow. When he reaches for her hand, she doesn't resist. He doesn't even realize, until he's been doing it for a good five minutes, that he's been tracing circles upon the top of her hand, subconsciously repeating a pattern he had drawn on her soft skin the previous day - a moment that had ended too abruptly. She doesn't say anything now, doesn't pull away. He sneaks a glance at her, to find her eyes are closed. She's not sleeping, he can tell from the way she has sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and is worrying it. She's fighting her own inner battle. He turns back to the TV, his love for this woman wreaking havoc on his insides.

Royal twitches in his sleep, and Kate reacts, opening her eyes and running her free hand back over the dog's head, rubbing small circles between his eyes, mimicking Castle's touch upon her skin.

His hand on her shoulder tugs her a little closer, and she goes willingly, her head coming to rest against his own shoulder.

They remain like that, more wrapped up in one another's arms than they've ever been, quietly watching the black and white film as it plays out on the big screen TV. It ends, and the silence, the stillness, stretches for a moment longer, before Kate gives in and pulls away. "I should go," she says quietly.

Castle watches her wrestle with her own decision, before he sees the determination flare in her eyes and she gently eases Royal's head off her lap. "You sure?" But he already knows the answer.

She nods, standing. "Thank you for tonight, Castle," she tells him sweetly. "It was nice."

"We should do it more often," he says, walking with her to the door, handing her coat to her.

"We should," she agrees.

He shakes off the despair completely at those words, and lets the hope wash over him. He helps her into her coat, and smiles as she turns to bid him good night. He takes a chance - because, why not? - and brushes a kiss to her cheek, like he had done once before so many years ago now. His hands rest on her hips as his lips ghost her skin, unable to keep himself from touching her.

She doesn't flinch, or pull back, and he swears for a moment she leans into his touch. But the moment ends, and he pulls back, his hands still a little too unwilling to leave her hips.

Kate smiles shyly, dipping her head and avoiding his gaze. She steps out into the hall, stepping out of his touch, but stops before she walks away and turns back to him. "Good night, Castle," she says softly.

"Until tomorrow, Kate."

She nods, still smiling, and disappears down the hall. He closes the door, closes his eyes, and sighs, but Royal is there, barking at him from the couch, snapping him back.

Castle points a finger at the dog, and begins to walk towards him. "You and I need to have a little conversation about that move you pulled tonight," he pauses, and his tone loses its hard edge as he adds gently, "I need to thank you." He retrieves Mr Squeaky, and throws it for Royal, who lumbers off the couch after it.

Now, he and Royal just need to work on that move a little more if he is going to get the girl too...

* * *

**A/N: Furry fluff for Lou, who needed a bit of a fluff boost after a bit of a messy fic experience. AND WHO DOESN'T LOVE ROYAL AND CASKETT COUCH CUDDLING?  
**

**Reviews are only allowed to be left if you're telling Lou she's awesomesauce and to give her a prod to update her amazing fic: Vincit Omnia Veritas (and if you're not reading it yet, do. It's AMAZEBALLS). **

**Good luck for tomorrow, Fandom. I'M NOT READY FOR THE FINALE! *curls up into a fetal position***


	2. Chapter 2

**Blue Butterfly post-ep**

* * *

"Paperwork?" Castle slumps down in the chair next to Beckett's, disgust showing on his face. "Boring," he whines, already reaching for the paperclips he intends to link together.

"No one's keeping you here, Castle," Beckett reminds him, sliding the container of paperclips across the surface of her desk and out of his reach.

His fingers drum on the smooth surface for a moment, before he glances at his watch. "I should be going anyway," he admits, and despite his distaste for paperwork there's reluctance lacing his tone.

Beckett glances up from the forms she's been scrawling on, and tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Royal?"

Castle nods. "Dogs are a lot more work than I realized."

Reaching over, Kate plucks a stray piece of dog hair from his jacket, and holds it up for him to see. "They also shed a lot," she replies, letting the hair fall from her fingers. "The company must be nice though." There's a sadness in her voice that she fails to hide from him.

"He's due for a walk. You're welcome to join us. In fact, I insist," he tells her firmly. "Royal misses you."

"I really need to get this done..."

"And afterwards I was planning on introducing him to _The Maltese Falcon_..."

Kate chuckles. "You didn't get your fill of noir these past few days?"

"Timing felt appropriate."

The top of the pen taps against her lower lip, and a soft _hmmm_ escapes her mouth.

"Was that a yes?" Castle's eyes skim down the half-finished forms on her desk. "The paperwork can wait, right?" He nudges her gently with an elbow, giving her a broad smile when she meets his eyes. "We could hit the comfort-food truck while we walk Royal..."

And it's all just a little bit too tempting. "If you throw in a strawberry shake it might just be a date." Kate clamps her mouth shut at the words that had left her lips, her eyes shifting uncomfortably back down to the papers on her desk, before slowly rising to meet his again. "I didn't mean..." She fumbles, but his eyes are shining, and his smile is wide, and she knows it's too late.

"A date it is!" He declares, teasing her as he stands, and extends his hand for her to take.

Kate sighs, shakes her head, but before she can resist she places her hand in his and allows him to help her up. The moment she is on her feet, she slips her hand out of his, throws him a disapproving glare, and then turns her head to hide the smirk she can no longer suppress.

There's a bounce in his step she tries to pretend she doesn't notice. A bounce that's been there since the night spent on his couch watching a film, her body sandwiched between Castle's solid, warm one, and Royal's. A bounce she's been trying not to smile at for over a week now.

_"We should do it more often."_

"_We should."_

And yet, neither had mentioned that night since. There had been a brief moment of awkward eye-contact the next morning, standing just a little too close to one another at the coffee machine, and then nothing. Not a quip from Castle or a comment from her. Like it had never happened. So typical for them.

Until now. Now, her arm is linked around Castle's elbow - _when did that happen?_ - and she's fighting the urge to twirl a stray strand of hair around her finger, stepping in sync on their way out of the precinct to his loft. The word _date_ ricochets around inside her skull, bouncing off her brain, swirling good and bad, and right and wrong, until it's all just one big lump of indecision in her mind. Still her feet shuffle her forward, and still her arm remains linked with his, and still she follows - because damn if she hasn't already fallen for him, and damn if she doesn't want him, and damn if she doesn't have this wall still firmly up between them. Just... _damn_.

He hails a cab, opens the door for her, and the edge of a worn brick crumbles away. She inhales the city air as she steps into the cab, breathing the dusty remnants of that sliver of her baggage into her lungs, the jagged fragments scratching at her throat, making her eyes water. She forces it out on an exhaled huff of a breath, and locks her eyes out the window as the streets go by in a blur, determined to let him in, no matter how much it threatens to choke her. Let him in, just a little more. She's tired of this, all of it. She proved - they both did - that this wall is not as impenetrable as it seems.

"You ever seen _The Maltese Falcon_?" Castle asks.

She blinks away the fear, turns to him, and shakes her head. "No." She's too good at lying. "Tell me about it." He has done this to her before, not all that long ago, a movie she caught him quietly quoting along with, in a dark cinema, after a long day. And it's nice, to just sit, push the concerns aside, and listen to his voice as it grows in excitement, watch his hands as he gesticulates plot points. She loves it all, the small crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smiles, the light that fills those eyes as he speaks, a mind that has created worlds, the hands that have typed them out. Hands that could hold her if only she would allow, hands that...

Castle stops talking, his eyes growing wide, and he glances down to their joined hands between them and oh... _when did she reach for his hand_?

"Sorry," she exhales on a broken breath. She relaxes her hand, attempts to pull away, but he's having none of it. He tightens his hold on her, presses his fingers into her skin. It's firm, but not uncomfortably so. She swallows down the lump in her throat, and her hand remains in his, until he's talking again, like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. She spends the last of the ride with her hand resting upon his, listening to the soothing tone of his voice, silently calming her erratic heart.

The sky is darkening overhead when they reach Castle's building. He glances up as he once again holds the door open for her, and mutters that it might be a short walk as he takes in the sky above. They move swiftly, into his building, the elevator, the corridor. He ushers her inside his home, and is quick to snap a leash onto Royal's collar, and leads them back out into the hall once more. She fusses over Royal in the elevator, crouching down to scratch the lovable bundle of fur behind the ears, and gets a lick on her neck in thanks. She stands, and makes a face as she wipes the wetness off her skin with her sleeve.

"Remind me not to..." Castle begins, trailing off as his brain clearly catches up with the words leaving his lips. "Ah, get that close to Royal."

Kate blinks rapidly, her own mind having finished his sentence a little differently. "Uh, yeah," she agrees, her tone subdued.

"Oh, ground floor," Castle announces, his voice stilted. "Great."

They have brought this upon themselves, her ability to lie to him, his to allow it. The fact they're both too stubborn and scared to have a real conversation.

"Are you okay?" He asks as they walk, side-by-side, Royal sniffing at trash cans and lampposts.

"Long day," she replies smoothly.

"It was a fun case though, don't you think?"

She smiles, because his own is contagious. "I didn't enjoy it quite as much as you," she tells him gently. "But it was interesting, that's for sure."

Dark clouds settle overhead, and the cooling air sends a shiver through her. They reach the park, and stop beneath a tree, eyes averted while Royal does his business. The shiver hits her more violently this time, making it noticeable, and she feels Castle's eyes on her. "A storm's approaching."

He nods, but his eyes don't leave her.

She knows that look in his eyes, can see him wrestling with something. What exactly becomes clear a moment later when he wraps an arm around her shoulder and tugs her body closer to his. "Food truck's just around the corner," he murmurs into her hair, making her wonder when his lips got that close to her skin. Her heart swells, pounds, turns somersaults in her chest.

Royal tugs on the lead, making it known he's ready to move on. "This way, boy," Castle tells the dog, tugging gently to change the animal's direction, his arm never slipping from her shoulders.

She thinks that might have been an entire brick that just turned to dust between them, and she doesn't suffocate, doesn't choke. The air keeps flowing in and out of her lungs.

Her side bumps his as they walk, his fingers curls at her upper arm, and yes, they should do this again. Again, and again, and again. And talk about it. Come clean...

They stop at the truck, Royal sitting quietly beside Castle, sniffing the air and all the smells from the truck before them.

She should...

"Castle," she begins, turning to meet his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Um..." And then she loses her nerve. "Mac and cheese."

He frowns briefly, but then nods. "Sounds good." He orders for them both, and Kate slips out from under his arm, and turns her attention back to Royal, crouching down, murmuring quietly to the dog, while she runs her hand along his back.

"Is there something on your mind, Detective?" Castle asks slowly.

She chuckles mirthlessly, her attention still focused on Royal. "Just tired." She glances up, and gives him a small smile. She gives Royal once last scratch, and stands.

"Mmmhmmm," he replies, brow furrowed, eyes disbelieving.

And as she takes in the expression on his face, she gives in. "We need to talk," she begins slowly. "But not here."

He's silent for a moment. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

The lines marring his face get a little deeper at her words.

"I am, I promise."

"Okay," he replies slowly. "Are _we_ okay?"

"Yeah." She nods, forces a smile.

"Because if it's because of... I mean if you don't want me to..." Two steaming containers of food are passed over to Castle before he can articulate his thoughts.

She takes the food from him, he concentrates on holding the leash, but his free arm doesn't slide across her shoulders again, and there's a space between them that feels like miles.

They pick up the pace and exit the park, the first drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky. Royal tugs every which way at the leash, jostling Castle to the side, pulling him forward, until the dog lumbers against Castle's side, and he stumbles into Beckett. She instinctively grabs at him, one hand at his back, the other at his stomach, steadying him, keeping herself on her feet.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he regains his balance.

"It's okay," she tells him, smiling. She can feel the heat of his skin radiating out from beneath his shirt, warming her palms as she clings to him. Her hand on his stomach moves as he breathes, deep, jagged breaths, and she realizes she's staring at his stomach and _oh_ she prays he didn't just see her eyes drop to his crotch. "You teach him a new move?" She asks, tearing her gaze back up to meet his.

"Again, I have to assure you, these are all his own moves."

They reach his building, their hair a little damp from the light rain, a sheen of moisture on their clothes - a hint of wet dog odor in the air - just as a crack of lightning flares out overhead. Castle passes her a towel once they're inside his home, and uses an older one to give the dog a quick rub down. She scrunches what little moisture is in her hair out with the towel, and cannot stop herself from running it through his hair while he is crouched down drying off Royal. He smiles up at her, a light of pure joy dancing in his eyes, and murmurs a thank you. She acts as nonchalant as possible, gives him a small shrug, and hands him the towel so he can place it in the laundry hamper - and wonder what possessed her, and how that could feel so _normal_. She removes her coat, hangs it on the hook beside his, and finds herself slipping off her shoes as she settles on his couch. He joins her, and she passes him his dinner and a plastic fork. The rain grows heavy, battering against the windows, and a boom nearby echoes into the room.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I-" The room plunges into darkness. So much for the movie. "Should have expected that," she mutters.

"I have candles, hang on a minute." Castle is on his feet, moving through the darkened loft with ease, rummaging through a drawer, and then returning, a lit candle lighting his way. He places two securely on the coffee table, and settles back to eat his dinner, unperturbed by the shift in atmosphere the candlelight creates.

And then Royal, the big wimp, is leaping onto the couch, cramming his bulk into the small space between Castle and the arm rest, his back legs kicking out until Castle gives in and shifts over, and she knows she won't be making any grand declarations tonight. It's all just a little too comical, this wingdog he seems to have acquired.

Castle gives Kate a look that says _sorry_ as his thigh brushes her, and she reaches past him to give Royal a quick scratch. "It's okay, baby," she murmurs gently. "It's just a little thunder." She glances up as she pulls back, to find Castle staring openly at her. "What?" She asks, sinking back a little further into the couch.

He shakes himself out of it. "Nothing," he replies, returning his attention to his food. "You're good with him, that's all."

"I like him," she replies.

The dog's tail thumps against Castle's thigh from the attention. "It's mutual."

Kate smiles around a forkful of food, chewing thoughtfully. She's about to speak when Castle's left hand settles just above her knee, and he squeezes gently.

"I know things seem like they've changed between us recently."

_And, oh God, are they really having this conversation now?_

"But you're my best friend, Beckett. It's nice to spend time with you away from the precinct."

She exhales the breath she's been holding, before her lungs have a chance to scream at her, and meets his eyes.

"I was joking about the date," he assures her. "Although I can make a mean strawberry shake, just say the word."

She chuckles lightly. "I'm fine," she replies. "Bit cold for that tonight."

"I have hot chocolate," he announces, and she can't help but smile broadly at that. "And, whatever is bothering you, I'm a good listener, and a great cuddler." His hand slips from her knee, and he lifts it, extending it to invite her into a hug. When she resists, he slides his arm across the back of the couch behind her, and lets his fingertips lightly ghost her shoulder.

Joe and Vera's story still fills her mind, and her heart swells in her chest at the love they shared. Love.

_I love you._

But she holds it in. "I just need a little more time," she tells him gently.

His head tilts at her words, suggesting he understood more than she had anticipated, but he doesn't say anything further.

Royal shifts beside Castle, pushing a paw into his thigh, and an _oomph_ leaves his lips. Chuckling, Kate uses the distraction to lean her side against Castle's, settling her body against his, until her head comes to rest against his arm.

"This feels familiar," Castle says gently.

"We should do it more often, remember."

"Yes," he agrees gently. "We should."

He presses a kiss to her temple, and a soft sigh escapes her lips. She lifts her head, and his nose nudges her skin; his lips follow, ghosting across her cheek. When he brushes his warm lips against her jaw, a chuckle bubbles up out of her, surprising them both. "If you kiss my neck those lips are never coming anywhere near mine," she says bravely.

He turns to throw a glare at Royal. "Noted," he replies.

Kate sinks into his warmth, her eyes drifting closed. She gives into her exhaustion, too comfortable to move. Just before she drifts off, she feels him gently take the food container off her lap, hears the crinkle of foil as he places it on the table. She hears a soft rush of breath as he blows out the candles, and the flickering of soft light behind her eyelids ceases. He settles back against her, carefully wraps his arm around her once more, and that's the last thing she remembers before she gives in and sleep takes over.

* * *

**For Lou.  
**

** Not sure what this is turning into, but marking it incomplete...**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Linchpin_**** post-ep (with a few changes, but you will recognise some dialogue.)**

* * *

"So, enjoying your new internship?" Castle asks Alexis as they ride the elevator up to the loft. A silence had fallen down around them, an awkwardness from words that should never have been overheard, from the lips of a partner questioning her place in his life with a voice laced with a jealousy she couldn't suppress.

"Well, I'm learning a lot," Alexis replies smugly. She turns to him, arms folded across her chest, and cocks an eyebrow.

It makes him cringe inside, makes him wish the elevator moved just a little faster. "Too much, I think."

"And I thought the dead bodies were going to be the grossest part."

"Funny," he replies dryly.

The cab stops, and the doors open, and Alexis exits first. He's close behind, so close he almost walks into her.

Alexis has stopped, a few steps out of the elevator. Her eyes bore into the back of the head of the woman standing outside their door, and she nudges her father with her elbow. "Dad," she hisses. "That's the woman from the docks. Who is she?" Alexis turns, fixes her wide eyes on her dad's suspicious ones. "Is that who Beckett was talking about?"

He nods, and takes a step forward. "Sophia?" Castle asks, his voice loud enough to get the woman's attention. "What are you doing here?"

Sophia turns, huffs out an annoyed breath. "Not what I had planned," she mutters. She points to the closed door, frustration marring her features, tightening her stance. "Since when do you have a dog?"

As Castle steps up to the door, his daughter a step behind, the whining, the light scratching, from the other side becomes audible.

"Dad?" Alexis asks, her eyes darting between her father and Sophia.

"Go to bed," Castle tells his daughter gently. He unlocks the door, and reaches out to take hold of Royal's collar before he can bolt.

"Dad-"

"Bed. Now." He struggles with Royal while the dog pulls to get free. Teeth bared, a low growl emanates from Royal. He stands staunch, eyes fixed on the stranger, and blocks the entrance.

"Bad dog," Sophia snaps, keeping her distance but not losing her own menacing stance. She stares the dog down.

Alexis returns quickly, snapping a lead on Royal while the dog is distracted, still growling at Sophia, and tugs him back inside. "I'm taking Royal to bed with me."

"Good idea," Castle replies, watching Alexis struggling to tug the dog towards the stairs. "He's never reacted to a guest like that before," he says out loud, eyes still watching his daughter and the dog in concern.

"Seems like a loose wire," Sophia mutters. "Unpredictable. You might have to have him put down." She moves to enter his apartment, but he brings his hand up, slamming his palm to the door frame, blocking her entrance.

"What are you doing here?"

"Inside," Sophia tells him, her tone low. "Not out here."

He narrows his eyes, and then allows her to pass, and as she does so she glances quickly up the stairs to ensure Alexis is out of earshot. She waits for him to close the door, and then sighs. "You're going after Gage, aren't you?

"No," he replies calmly. "We're off the case, remember?"

She gives him a withering glare. "You used to be a better liar."

"Yeah." He glances up the stairs, distracted by the shuffling sounds above his head.

"I know you've been looking into Blakeley's aliases. It's okay, Rick. I don't mind. In fact, I want you on this case."

He turns back to her, confused. "But—"

Sophia holds a hand up to silence him. "I know what I said, but I also know what's at stake. Bringing you and Beckett on board was not a popular decision, and after what happened with Blakeley, I had to make a stand. But I know what kind of asset you can be." She fixes him with a look that suggests she means it on a more intimate level, before her expression shifts before he can read it properly, and her gaze becomes harder. "I know you'll just keep digging no matter what I say. It's your nature. You need to know how the story ends." She reaches down her shirt, into her bra, and pulls out a folded piece of paper, his eyes following her hand the whole way. "It's what Blakeley was looking for at the pier."

He takes it from her, unfolds it, his eyes scanning over it. "Account numbers?"

Before she can respond, Alexis yelps from the top of the stairs. "Royal!"

Castle can see him already bounding down the stairs. He folds up the piece of paper, puts it safely in his pocket, and prepares himself to reach out and grab Royal, but the dog slips past, more interested in dinner than mauling anyone. Keeping an eye on Royal, he listens while Sophia elaborates on the note. He watches with concern as Royal wanders over, but the dog simply pads quietly between them, nose to the floor, content to sniff around the kitchen.

Tearing her own eyes off the dog, Sophia meets Castle's. "Keep me in the loop this time. And, Rick? Try not to get killed. I'm still quite fond of you," she finishes, a smile playing on her lips.

She turns on her heel, and saunters off - and that's when Castle spots it, the wet stain on the back of her pants, trailing down her calf. When he shifts his eyes to where she'd been standing, he sees one very proud dog sitting beside a small puddle on the kitchen floor. And he can't help but be amused. "Good dog."

* * *

"You think she was telling the truth about my father? I mean, that would explain why he completely disappeared." Castle sits in the Old Haunt, staring at Beckett across the table, fingers drawing patterns in the condensation on the small glass between his hands.

Kate frowns; she takes a moment to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before answering carefully. "I think that Sophia told a lot of lies."

He swallows down a mouthful of whiskey, and nods thoughtfully.

"Must be tough," she begins slowly. "Finding out that she's a traitor, especially after you based Clara Strike on her and all."

Castle hums in agreement, and then shrugs. "Well, Clara started off as Sophia, but she ended up being more like you, you know: smart, fierce, kind. I think that's one of the reasons I was drawn to you, as a muse." He adds the last part, and then wishes he hadn't when her face falls slightly. "Do you think Dr. Blakeley was right, about the linchpin? Do you think we actually saved the world?" He lowers his tone as he says the last sentence, leaning across the table so only she can hear.

Kate holds his gaze for a moment, before hers softens and she smiles. "I think that we saved a little girl's life, and that's enough for me."

Thoughts of his father swirl around inside his head, of Sophia and Clara, and of saving the world. But as Kate affectionately bumps his knee with hers under the table, he shakes it all away. They saved a little girl's life, and that's enough for him - for now.

"Crazy few days, eh?" He asks lightly.

She breathes out a long, slow sigh, and shakes her head in disbelief at all the insane situations they manage to get themselves into it. "The craziest."

"You hungry?" He asks. "We could ditch this place, head to Remy's? I'll buy you dinner."

"Starving, actually," she admits. "Remy's sounds great." The red wine buzzes through her veins, warming her, calming her. She smiles as her lips touch the rim of her wine glass, exhaling a laugh through her nose that huffs her chest.

"What's funny?" He asks.

"Nothing," she replies. "Nothing important anyway." _Maybe Clara just needed some wine, _she thinks. It's loosening her up, making her feel brave enough to admit things she's been keeping inside too long.

"Well, let me give you something to smile about."

He tells her about Royal, about Sophia's pants, and by the end of the story Beckett's body is shaking with laughter.

"Oh, good dog," she says.

"I guess it's true what they say about dogs being the best judge of character." He shrugs. "Wish I'd had Royal when Sophia and I first met."

Beckett sobers a little then. "Despite everything, Castle, she was someone you considered a friend, for a while, and I'm sorry she's gone."

"The Sophia I thought I knew never really existed though, did she?"

She doesn't really know how to answer that, the words on the tip of her tongue a little too harsh, so she swallows them down with her wine. When she has swallowed, the right words come. "A little girl is alive now because of us, because you met Sophia back then, because that led to us being dragged into this. I know you regret a few things about that relationship, but this day could have ended a lot worse."

He takes it in. "I suppose." He shrugs in agreement then. "Yeah, you're right."

Beckett reaches a hand across the table and lays it upon his. She curls her fingers around his, and squeezes gently. He meets her eyes, and there is a warmth for him in them that Sophia's eyes never held. He brings her hand to his lips, and brushes a warm kiss to her knuckles. His eyes stay on hers, and she doesn't look away, doesn't break the contact. The green flecks in her hazel eyes catch the light, and her smile widens.

"Come on," she says gently. "Let's go grab some food."

She doesn't pull her hand from his, simply stands and slides off her chair, moving around to his side. He squeezes her hand as he stands, and slides his fingers through hers until their palms press together. She doesn't fight it, doesn't pull free, and his heart swells with hope in his chest.

"It's a burger and fries kind of night," she tells him as they exit the bar.

"And good company," he adds.

She bumps his shoulder as they walk, turns her head and throws a smile at him. He would be content to never let her hand go.

* * *

Dinner and good company, it's all they needed. The bill is long paid, but they're lingering, in the warm diner, sitting opposite one another, sharing light conversation over their shakes, and she's finally losing the taste of the Hudson that's been lingering in her mouth. He's been nursing his own chocolate shake, for longer than necessary, perhaps finally winning his own battle with dirty river water. Her eyes drift to his lips, wrapped around the straw, and he's so lost in thought he isn't even aware she's staring, that she's fixated on thoughts of kissing those lips to see if the mix of them tastes like chocolate-coated strawberries on her tongue.

The straw slips from his lips. "You okay, Beckett?"

She meets his eyes, not faltering for a second from being caught, and leans across the table. The pad of her thumb sweeps across his lower lip, wiping away the droplet of chocolate milk. His eyes are wide as he watches her; they drop to her thumb and she's sure - for a second - he's about to reach for her hand, draw the top of her thumb into his mouth, lick the milk from it. But he just watches, transfixed.

She's already leaning back, but she's not satisfied. She blinks, smiles, places her palm flat on the table, leans toward him again, and brushes her lips against his. Brief, chaste, just a whisper of contact. But enough to taste the chocolate on him.

When she's back on her side of the table again he's still staring at her. She merely wraps her own lips around her own straw and sucks up the last of the strawberry shake, suppressing a smile.

"What was that for?" He asks.

The smile breaks free, and she releases the straw, meets his eyes. "For finding my gun, for pulling me to the surface."

He nods, thoughtful, just watching her for a moment. And when she fails to suppress a yawn, he stands. "Let me walk you home."

She's silent as she slips back into her coat, looping her arm through his when he offers her his elbow, falling into step beside him.

They exit the warm diner, and the cool air whooshes around them, her winter coat not enough to ward off the crisp bite of the February evening. Her body leans into his, her side brushing his, her arm clutching at his just a little tighter.

"Cold?" He asks gently.

She hums in response.

"We could catch a cab," he suggests.

But she shakes her head. "We're so close," she replies cryptically.

"Yes," he agrees, his own tone enigmatic. "We are."

She can feel his eyes on her profile, but she keeps her own facing ahead. They're so close, to her apartment building, to one another, to her dragging him into her apartment once they arrive, pushing him back against the closed door, pressing her body to his, and stealing his breath away with a searing kiss.

_So close._

* * *

It's outside the entrance to her building that she must leave him. She stands on the pavement, at the bottom of the steps, and faces him, her hands shoved deep in her pockets, her smile just a little shy. If she steps across the threshold with him, if he follows her inside, there will be no stopping either of them. The wall is down, it has already been reduced to rubble at her feet and dust in the air. She feels it beneath her feet, her toes kicking at a stone, sending it skidding away. She sees it as it passes by the streetlights, blown away from her by a gentle breeze. The case, Sophia, his father, the Hudson. It's all been too much, physically exhausting, emotionally draining.

She must leave him amidst the ruins of her crumbling resolutions.

"Goodnight, Castle."

He watches her silently, hope building within him. Not for tonight - even he knows following her up would be a bad idea. But hope, that she's remembering, that she loves him back. That something is changing, shifting, growing.

He can't leave her tonight with words alone. His hand curls at her waist, her hands still deep in her pockets, unflinching, and he draws her body to his. She takes a small step forward, and it's enough for his lips to meet hers. He kisses her, softly, and her lips respond to his.

It's sweet, and warm, more than just the chaste brush of lips she offered him earlier; with his fingers curled at her waist, his touch just barely tangible through the thick fabric of her coat, she drags a hand out of a pocket, and the pad of her thumb presses into his cheek, her palm cupping his jaw. Her lips capture his lower one briefly, before she pulls back. The smile tugging at the corners of her mouth is a little sadder than she ever expected in this moment, and she fights to keep the tears at bay. She nods at him, his cheek warm against her hand as she drags her fingers back, keeping the contact for as long as she can. She sees in his eyes what he must be seeing in hers, and it clamps like a vice around her heart. Kate stumbles forward, against his body, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. Her head turns to his, her lips so close to his ear she could press them to his skin again. But she doesn't. She holds him close, his own arms wrapped securely around her shivering body, his own breathing just a little hitched, and against his ear she whispers, "We need to talk but... not tonight." The last two words are laced with an apology.

He nods against her, squeezing her a little tighter. He wants to ask when, push her about what exactly they need to talk about, but he holds it all back. He brushes a soft kiss to her cheek, and smiles warmly as they separate. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

"Goodnight, Castle," she repeats kindly, her voice faltering a little. She leaves him on the sidewalk, to hail a cab, and she doesn't look back as she enters the building.

If she looks back, she will beckon him inside; they will ride the elevator up to her floor, their bodies pressed together as they slip into her apartment; they will strip themselves of all their defenses, scattering the fine dust of any lingering concerns as they stumble to the bedroom, and the day will disappear beneath entwined bodies, between tangled sheets.

They need to talk first. She needs to be honest with him.

She can't look back. Not tonight.

* * *

**Yes, I'm dragging this out. Only one more chapter left though :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Once Upon a Crime_ Post-Ep**.

* * *

Kate holds his hand, her fingers lacing through his while their hands rest on his thigh. She watches Martha's play, her eyes sparkling as it unfolds. She gives him little nudges with her elbow whenever he groans, and squeezes his hand when he grumbles about something. Royal sits at her side, pressed against her, inching her ever closer to Castle. _Didn't teach him that move, my ass_, she thinks, smiling lightly to herself.

Castle's gaze flicks between his mother's performance, the hand holding his, and the dog squeezed into the corner of the small couch. He dares not meet Beckett's eyes, having just flipped his hand over and fully encased hers with it. She had moved to lift her hand, but he had only held it a little tighter, fingers curling securely around to press into her knuckles, keeping her in place.

But when his eyes dare shift to her profile, he sees the smile tugging the corners of her lips up; he loosens his hold a little, and squeezes her hand. _Thank you for being here. _

The play concludes, Alexis walks Marcus to the door, before excusing herself with a dreamy air surrounding her as she heads for the stairs. Martha thanks them for attending, while Kate showers her with praise. There's something teasing in his mother's eyes as she bids them goodnight, and Kate could swear she hears a light chuckle float down as Martha ascends the stairs. Royal pads around the room, watching the activity around him, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, before trotting back into the living room.

"I'll help you move the furniture back," Kate offers, but Castle has already flopped back down onto the couch, head in his hands, groaning in embarrassment. "Or not," she adds.

"Tomorrow. It can wait until tomorrow," he says through his hands.

Kate sits beside him, and smiles warmly, nudging him with her knee. "It wasn't that bad, Castle."

"It was," he mumbles, voice muffled, "but thank you for trying to make me feel better."

Royal, never missing an opportunity, bounds up onto the couch, squeezing his solid body into a tight corner beside Kate.

"We need to talk about your dog," Kate says lightly, a tail thumping her shoulder, and a paw in her thigh.

He lifts his head, and meets her eyes. "That's not all we need to talk about." He gestures between them with a hand, before he has second thoughts and his hand twists up into a dismissive gesture. "Nothing, nevermind."

But she understands. The dance isn't enough anymore, and she's ready to just fall into his arms. This wall, this once solid wall, he's been chipping through it since the moment they met; the final pieces have been obliterated by a damn dog, and she feels ready. The only thing stopping her from reaching out and drawing his lips to hers are three words she has lied about for too long.

Taking a breath, summoning courage, ready for the anger and hurt, praying he doesn't send her away, she slips her hand back into his, and meets his questioning eyes.

"I heard you, Castle. In the cemetery, before I... lost consciousness." The words, _Before I died, _almost slip from her lips_. _ "I heard what you said."

He blinks in surprise, draws back, pain clouding his eyes. "You heard?"

Kate nods slowly, keeping a secure hold on his hand. "I remember." She pauses and expels a heavy sigh. "Well, everything to be honest."

"Why did you say otherwise?" He asks, his tone low, his hand now limp in hers.

"Because I wasn't ready. I wasn't in the right place- I was scared of screwing it up. I was scared of losing you." Tears threaten to fall from her eyes, because this could be it, the moment she does lose him. "I'm sorry I kept that from you."

He's quiet for a moment, processing it, trying to decide what it all means. "Do you care about me, Kate?" He asks softly.

She nods, and a tear escapes, slips down her cheek. She swipes at it quickly with her free hand. "Yes." Royal whines beside her; the dog turns on the couch, and pushes his wet nose against her damp hand. She runs her fingers up between his eyes, scratching the top of his head, behind his ears. The dog's soft fur moves through her fingers and it calms her. "I was scared you didn't mean it," she admits. "That it was said in the moment." She inhales a deep breath, and adds, "and recently? That I was just another in a long line of- _muses_."

His eyes soften, and he squeezes her hand. "I love you, Kate." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, like she could never have doubted him. "Do you want this?" He gestures between them. "Us?"

And suddenly she's had enough of talking. They don't have such conversations, and they should probably change that, but not tonight. Tonight she just wants to act. Her fingers leave Royal's fur, fist tightly at his shirt, she pulls him to her, and their lips collide; he is quick to respond, only momentarily surprised by her move. Hot mouths open, tongues slide; joined hands release, reach out, fingers close around material and slip beneath to graze warm skin.

She pulls her body closer to his, sliding until she's almost in his lap, and his lips drag from hers, exploring her jaw. Her head tilts to one side, allowing him better access, as his lips trail a heated path down the smooth skin of her long neck, her jaw. "What changed?" He murmurs, his nose nudging the sensitive shell of her ear.

In a hushed tone, between shaky breaths, she manages an, "I did." She slides away from him, stands, and pulls him to his feet. The moment he's found his balance her hands frame his face, and pull him in. Mouths move together while they stumble towards his bedroom; hands fall to hips pulling bodies closer when they move too far apart; sighs and moans and breathy gasps escape when lips stray down necks to nip and caress warm skin.

Her fingers work on his shirt, her lips pepper kisses along his jaw. "You changed me," she murmurs against his cheek. She undoes the final button, and her palms slide up his chest, up to frame his face once more. "And I need you." She kisses him with a desperation she has suppressed for too long, her lips press hard to his, her mouth opens, her tongue demands the attention of his. She pulls back just long enough to add, "Now." They move into his bedroom, and the door closes soundly behind them.

* * *

Royal stretches out, his long body taking the up the now vacated length of the couch. His paws press into the soft cushions, his tail thumps against the arm rest, and he yawns. Content.

* * *

**AN: Castle's secret didn't exist in this AU, before you ask (fluffy fic would have gotten TOO heavy).**


End file.
